Life in Hanoi goes by in a blur. The view from the front door of my house in Ba Dinh.
Hanoi Diaries # 1
I started writing while living in Hanoi, Vietnam. It’s one of the greatest place in the world to people-watch, a flaneur’s paradise.
One of my favourite pastimes quickly became exploring its endless offering of cafes – big and small, old and new, traditional and modern, Western coffee or Vietnamese – drinking coffee, reading, observing, idling, smoking cigarettes, people watching.
Eventually I decided it’d be rude not to write down some of the things that I saw.
This is a bunch of bullet point notes I scribbled in a café near my last home in Hanoi, (in the city’s Ba Dinh district) a couple of months before I left. I’ve barely had to edit it (which is rare), the say-what-you-see details are far more interesting and insightful than anything I’d have to say about the place.
Nghiền Cafe, Vĩnh Phúc, Ba Đình 25th October 2018, 4:09pm
Man ~ 50 limping aimlessly, one direction then the other in a blue Premier League jersey
3 guys in the lottery ‘office’ across the road, crates of beer stacked halfway to the roof
Guy painting some large gates ready for a house that got some new renovations; freshly varnished quadruple hinged doors, front wall of the house a beautiful Mediterranean blue; quaint shuttered windows newly sanded.
Thuốc lào pipes in old cement buckets waiting invitingly by small wood and wicker tables. Lads hunched over iPads and cigarette packets
The old Vietnamese practice of sitting in contemplation, staring into the distance and perhaps the future or past, replaced by sitting, shoulders over ears, staring into the abyss of the iPhone; social media or the fantasy world of a game (League of Legends is a popular one).
Lady in black pyjamas and nón lá hat with two small children grasping her loosely from the back seat of a Honda Dream.
A topless middle-aged man in cargo shorts and flip-flops, military issue haircut and face, sells me a pack of Saigon Bạc. The second time I go in (the next day), I don’t even have to ask for them, he produces them on sight of me. They are incredibly good at that here.
An elderly lady in loose floral shirt and black pyjama bottoms tending to flowers outside the gold wrought iron gates of her mansion.
A man goes by on a bicycle, pedalling against the weight of the load of traditional woven baskets hanging off all sides of his bike. He passes making the subtle glances to the approaching environment of someone who’s always scouting out a potential customer, or something useful to pick up to sell on in the future. Things whose value is perhaps not obvious to most of us, discarded tools or ornaments to be turned into furniture; constantly re-evaluating the uses of everyday objects.
There’s a steady but soothing stream of scooters, bicycles and cars. Wide empty footpaths. This has become one of my favourite parts of the city. It’s dense and central, but somehow you take just a couple of turns off Doi Can and the tight alleys open into spacious and more peaceful neighbourhoods.
I got a pang of nostalgia last night sliding lethargically into my flip-flops outside my front door – I won’t get to do that again so often; I already miss that one little feature of daily Vietnamese life.
Man strolling with purposeful gentleness with his infant baby – yellow crocs and a “Warning, I’m teething” jumper
Armies of (almost always) ladies patrol the streets, heaving huge metal carts down streets and alleys, traffic always giving way. Picking up rubbish discarded or thrown on the side of the road. There’s no public or private recycling scheme in operation, but in between it’s quite normal for people to go scavenging for rubbish. Sometimes it’s to collect useful nick-nacks and to recycle and upcycle; others it’s to look for food.
Lads sitting in silence and staring at the street at a Bia hơi down the street; one guy showing his mate something on his iPad.
———————————————-
If you enjoyed this, continue reading:
One of my first short stories, about a friend I made at this same cafe in Hanoi:
A city guide to Hanoi, written for visitors
More of Vietnam as seen from a different perspective: running through it